The Roof
by madasarabbit
Summary: After a fundraising gala at the Jeffersonian, a drunken Booth and Brennan end up in each other's arms. What next? Okay, this was just a little plot bunny hopping around in my head, and it'll probably be a two or three-shot. Please R&R! Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

**Hey everyone. Yes, I do realize that I am a terrible person and just suck as a human being, seeing as this is my- what is it?- third project I'm beginning, and neither have been updated in forever. Actually, I've changed Heat's status to Complete, so if you think I should write a sequel, let me know, okay? Anyway, I'm hoping to make this a three-shot at most, so don't worry. It will get finished soon, since I actually know where I'm going with it for once.**

**Here's the newest plot bunny that just furrowed itself into the depths of my mind-at 1 AM no less. Quick note: This is really rather uncut, I never reread it or got a beta, so keep that in mind when you, and of course you will, click that adorable review botton at the bottom of the screen. Anyway, enjoy!**

**Again, please please please read and review! If you do, you'll be my bestest friend forever...c'mon, I _know_ nobody can refuse that offer!**

**Disclaimer: Bones isn't mine. _Le duh._ It's the property of FOX, Kathy Reichts, etc., and I am in no way taking credit for it's existence. However, this story is mine.**

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The leaves were turning a fiery red all over town in true Washington D.C. tradition, and the sky was thick with firelies and the sounds of crickets. If it wasn't the nation's capitol, complete with concrete, monuments, subway systems, and thousands of tourists, Seeley Booth was sure that the city could easily pass as any old patch of land on the East Coast.

It was beautiful.

Actually, not unlike the rest of his view on the Jeffersonian's balcony.

He and Bones were at the annual Jeffersonian Donor's Banquet. She (being quite a well-known scientist in the Forensic's department there) had again not been able to get out of coming, but this time she had dragged Booth along. Allegedly, this was to avoid some of the _older_(ancient) and _friendlier_ (hornier) philantropists who who donated "a crapload of money," as according to Cam. Last time she showed up at one of these, her single-ness forced her to at least take the obligatory dance from one of the donors. Needless to say, he had a wandering hand and she had an assertive personality.

Long story short, she lost the Jeffersonian 1.3 million dollars in research money with that one.

And so, to avoid that kind of a mishap this time, Brennan was under extreme _advisory _(the parking lot M threat was utilized once again) to show up-and not to do it alone.

The night had been absolutely incident-free so far, though. Booth and Bones had met up in the lab a couple hours earlier so they could show up together. She was looking gorgeous, wearing a purple, flowy-material cocktail dress with her hair down in a mass of waves, and he had actually found an old tux in the back of his closet. It didn't look half bad, if he could say so himself.

They had entered the banquet hall in a mass of squints, most of the male half (Booth guessed most of them had never seen this attractive of a woman outside of their Laura Croft: Tomb Raider video games,) ogling Bones in her skin-baring dress and heels. At first, Booth himself hadn't been able to look away from the shoes. When he first saw her in them, his mind zoomed to a conversation he'd once had with Tessa, out at a fancy dinner. She had called shoes that looked just like Bones's that were on another woman passing by "fuck-me pumps". Dr. Temperance Brennan, as it seemed, was oblivious to the powers of her sexy shoes.

As Booth would later find out, Angela had helped pick out Bones's shoes. _Figures._

Once they found a table with the rest of the squint squad (sans Hodgins and most unfortunately Zack, of course.), the alchol bgan flowing heavily. Nobody ever wanted to be at these events, and the only way, as they found out, to make it less boring was to _drink._

Which was why he was where he was now. After a bottle...or two...or three...of champagne brought to the table, he and Bones had decided to ditch the party. After schmoozing a member of the janitorial staff and, ah, _borrowing_ his keys, the two of them sneaked onto the roof. If they hadn't both been drunk and wearing incredibly attractive formalwear, the romantic atmosphere would have made the two of them extremely uncomfortable. But since they _were _heavily under the influence and looking hot in the cool end-of-summer air, it was just...right.

"God, Bones. That booze is just giving me this...buzz. It's making me feel like I'm on top of the world. Are you seeing this view?" Booth was teetering precariously on the rooftop's edge, and Brennan laughed, tugging him away from the 400-foot drop.

"You know, technically, you can't really get to the "top of the world", not really. Since as the earth is a sphere-" Bones was still trying to remain coherently intelligent, quite obviously. Booth didn't like it. If he had to be silly, she'd better be too.

"Jesus, Bones. Can't you just look at something like it's _not _a science project, for once?" Booth had a goofy grin on his face, illuminated by the bright spotlights oin the ground floor, acting as a beacon for the many bigwigs coming to the Jeffersonian that night. The lamps swung back and forth in a rhythmical pattern, oulining the clouds and starry skies above. Each time the beam swept through the night air, it pivoted the shadows on his-yes, she would admit it- very handsome face.

She smiled. Though he might not have noticed, Brennan was just as tipsy as he was. "Okay, _fiiine_. It does feel like were at the top of the world." She purposely tried to sound like a petulant child, sticking out her lower lip and crossing her arms across her goosebumbed chest. Shit, it was _cold _up here.

Booth laughed. Noticing his partners slight discomfort, he tugged off his jacked and slung it over her shoulders. Even while drunk, he could be a gentleman, and he would be. That's the way his mother raised him! Arms still over hers, he laughed again and swung her around, facing the city once more. The height seemed less staggering now that he was so close to her. Inhaling slowly, he waited for a response.

Bones looked surprised. "Thanks." It was all she could say, for once. her back was pressed to his chest and she could smell him _oh so much_, and the night was so perfect. If this was crossing the line, she didn't care. Being this close to another human being, one she could trust, was a really... _nice _feeling, and the line never made much sense anyway...

Her thoughts were an intoxicated blur, and rationality seemed like way too much effort. _For once, why don't I just give in? _The thought was more than enticing.

Meanwhile, Booth was growing both more comfortable and less comfortable by the second. It felt so right to be there, like that, with Bones, but it was a little too okay, he knew. They were partners. As complicated as the concept seemed in his drunken state, Booth knew the rules. _Stupid, stupid, stupid rules._ He decided either the shoes needed to go, or he did. After weighing his chances of pulling off the pumps, Booth started to withdraw with a sigh.

"What are you doing?" Booth heard her say, and he exhaled, remaining in place. _Why are those dumb rules there anyway?_

"Nothing."

"Good," she did, and snuggled closer to his _very solid and very male_ body. _Kicking ass really makes for a nice body. Damn, I wonder if he's thinking the same thing._

As it seemed, Booth was admiring his own view immensely. It wasn't every day that he got to be this close to her, after all.

Suddenly, a gust of surprisingly strong wind blew across the building top, and Brennan jumped back, nearly knocking the still-precarious Booth to the ground. Luckily he steadied himself, but now they were standing awkwardly by the edge, and neither thought they'd be able to stand much longer. "Uhm. Yeah, Bones, I've gotta sit. Like, down."

She laughed, more than she usually would have. The sound was still music to his ears. Three years ago, he wouldn't have believed she _could _laugh, let alone with him at something completely not funny. The two sank to the concrete practically on top of each other in uneven laughter, Booth with an errant hiccup. "Bones, I don't think I'm gonna be able to drive home."

"I know." _Why is he already thinking of going home?_ She sighed. He's _probably right. _"I can't either."

"Cab?"

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**Yes I do realize that I ended in a strange place, but that is how I intended it to be. I hope everyone thinks this sounds at least kind of in character, since that is always my aim. Let me know what you think! Also, if anyone's interested in betareading or even helping me write this darned thing before I start neglecting it as I have often one, send me a PM**

**Please R&R!  
**

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	2. Chapter 2

** All right guys, I know I said I'd have this chapter up sooner, but some things came up, and...well, it's here now. Again, I also never got around to getting a beta-or even proofreading the thing, so don't be too harsh. Let me know what you think! Should I go onto a third chapter?**

**Thank you all for the fantabulous reviews. They always make me happy.**

**DISCAIMER: Bones isn't mine. No copyright infringement intended, yada yada yada.**

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The taxi pulled up to Brennan's building. She fumbled with her purse and pulled out a twenty dollar bill, and tried to give it to the driver. He grimaced as she waggled the paper in his face, trying to get a good grip on her somewhat hazy motor skills.

"Take it" she said. "I can't hand it." The ride, short as it had been, put their foreign driver in a surlier mood than he had been all night.

He snatched the money. "Get out of my taxicab!" She laughed, said bye to Booth, and stumbled out of the car. Once she was safely on the curb, however, the car didn't start rolling. Seconds later the door was thrust open, and Bones had to jump to the left to avoid being hit by it. "You too, mister! I do not care if you are part of the goddamn FBI! I do not like you American drunks in my car! You throw up, make big mess for me to clean up. Out!"

Booth began, "Actually, I am an FB-" Brennan grabbed him and helped him out, and the car zoomed off into the night without any second thoughts.

Bones froze for a second. If he isn't going back home in the cab, does that mean...? Okay, he could stay here. That would be nice. But wait! If he came home with her, that would mean-

Booth smiled at her, and any reservations she may have had melted away. "Okay, come on up."

Once inside, Brennan went into the kitchen to make a couple cups of coffee, and Booth collapsed on her couch, out of breath from their impromptu race up all eight flights of stairs in Brennan's building. "You know, Bones, I'm sure I could just take th underground back to my place. I don't want to, you know, impose."

She stuck her head out of the kitchen. "You've never had a problem with it before," she said, punctuating with a hiccup. When he didn't answer, she reassured him, "It's fine. You're drunk."

"No, you're drunk."

"Fine, we're both drunk." Brennan continued to spoon the coffee beans into her grinder when she suddenly heard a familiar sound coming from the living room. _Foreigner_. "Booth."

She was standing a few feet away from him, and he was air-guitaring along with the opening of the song. "_Well, I'm hot blooded, check it and seeeeee...I got a fever of a hundred and three_...c'mon Bones, we never finished it."

She laughed again. "Yeah, the whole exploding-refrigerator-thing kind of put a damper on the party."

He kept playing and pretending to sing along. "Actually, it was your boyfriend calling that made us stop," he corrected, not even bothering to look up from his strumming hands.

She stopped, and didn't say anything. Sweets would probably say that sounded hostile. Was he hostile? Suddenly, she didn't want to know. "Whatever. _Come on baby, do you do more than dance? I'm hot blooded, hot blooded!_"

The pair continued to sing-and yell-it _was _Foreigner-along until the song was almost over, when a loud knock interrupted the final lines. Booth hit stop on the machine, knocking over couple Miles Davises and Bones's Tibetan throat singing CD, so Brennan opened it. It was a neighbor, complaining about the noise. Once they were gone, Booth and Bones started laughing, almost uncontrollably. They were on an alcohol high, additionally fueled by the presence of one another. "Hey Booth?" Brennan asked, once the giggles had started slowing down.

"Yep?"

She bit her lip. "Well, just...thanks for coming with me to the party. I've had a better time tonight than I've had in quite awhile." She looked away from his face, his pretty pretty face and waited for an answer. It wasn't like she'd confessed some deep dark secret or anything, but telling him even that seemed like a big leap from an inebriated Dr. Brennan.

He gave her yet another one of those toe-curling smiles. Suddenly, all traces of amusement from Foreigner were gone. They were both leaning on Brennan's giant stereo, and neither could look away from the gazes that they had found themselves captured in. Booth was still standing there with his relaxed grin, and she looked somewhere between drawn in and confused. It wasn't like she hadn't felt this way around him before, she told herself. He made her feel safer than with anyone else, more secure. Calm. That is, at least when they weren't in on one of their full-blown arguments- discussions, actually, if you were to ask either for a good word for it, but all the same, happy.

Realizing that she had been holding in her breath, Bones finally broke the string of solace suspended between the two, expelling with a sigh and motioning towards the kitchen again. "I forgot the coffee."

Booth had just been finishing up restacking the dropped CD cases when he heard a loud, "Fuck!" drift from the next room.

"Bones?" he asked, heading towards her, "Are you okay?"

The hardwood floor was covered in sugar, still pouring out of the economy-sized cardboard box, which had landed directly onto Brennan's left foot. "Jesus, Bones," Booth said, shaking his head. "You scared me." He bent down to grab to container. _Hell, at least she wasn't still wearing those goddamned shoes. She probably would have knocked herself over_, Booth thought to himself. "Sorry," she said. "Bad coordination. The alcohol level..."

He laughed. "Yeah, yeah." They started scooping up the small anthills of raw cane sugar that had pooled around her ankles. "What was the last time you were this drunk, anyway?" She snorted. "Probably that time we did all those shots after that one case."

"Really? I didn't realize."

"Oh yeah. After you left, I had to sleep on my couch and didn't wake up until eleven the next morning. Zach was exceptionally confused. Couldn't figure out why I would be there on the weekend and not be working."

He still looked concerned. "Hey, Bones, you could have just gotten a ride from me. I don't think I was anywhere near as smashed as it sounds you were. Well within the legal limit. Why didn't you ask?" She shrugged uncomfortably. "I don't know. I guess..I guess I don't like people to see me all that out of control. Well, out of control probably isn't the best way to describe it, but...I don't know. Let go." Nearly all of the sugar had been dumped into the garbage can now, and the two Both straightened up as well as they could in their present states and brushed themselves off.

"You've let go now." It was such a simple statement, in both structure and meaning, but it was one that Temperance could not get her head around. _He's right, you know. Why?_

And, with nothing else to say and nothing else to do, they kissed. Without a second's warning from either side, heads tilted, eyes shut, and lips thouched. Somehow, this was different than last time. Sure, her hands were on his lapels, and it was surely lasting longer than five steamboats, but now it was just...them. Not just with the fact that there was no puckish Caroline Julian in the room, watching to make sure Brennan upheld her side of a deal, but because there was nothing to hide behind. No bones, no badges, just two people with a weakness for the other.

For at least five minutes the partners leaned there against the kitchen counter, tongues colliding, attempting to make up for what seemed to be an entire three year's worth of pent-up sexual tension. Once her hands slid under the back of his recently untucked dress shirt, though, tracing the defined muscles and smmoth skin they found there, they both knew a decision had to be made.

And when Bones's hips involuntarily ground up against his, the decision was made clearly in the muddled minds of Seeley Booth and Temperance Brennan:

"Bedroom. Now."

Her bare feet wrapped around his back and he supported her weight, still kissing while trying to manuever through Brennan's apartment without breaking anything. One hand of Booth's was entangled in her hair, silky and smooth and oh god so fucking irrestible, and the other was somewhere between her ass and middle back, holding her to him so her fragile body wouldn't slip and crash to the ground. Her hands were both behind his head, pulling his lips to hers and cementing them there.

After the fall of only one or two of the priceless artifacts on display in the apartment, Booth anaged to bring the two of them into her bedroom, layiing Brennan down gently on her bed and falling on top of her, arms beside her head. Generally speaking, Tempe usually liked being on top in situations like this. She was good in control. But with Booth gently probing her mouth with his tongue, pressing his lean muscled body lightly to hers, it felt far too nice to rearrange the scene. What was happening was happening, and neither seemed to have any problem with it.

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The next morning, Temperance awoke with an uncharacteristically contented feeling in her chest. Though a small ppunding was blooming in her skull, the obvious first inklings of a nasty hangover, she still had a nice warm haze about herself. A few warm rays of sunshine breezed through the sheer curtains on her window; she must have forgotten to pull the thicker panels across last night. _On that thought, what did happen last night?_ Not bothering to open her eyes, Brennan assessed herself. Feeling the sofness of her Egyptian Cotton sheets across her back, she realized she must have slept nude; _I don't do that unless I get home late enough that I don't bother with pajamas or..._

Pairing that thought with the familiar slight throb between her thighs, Bones's eyes flew open and she bolted upright in bed.

Seeing Booth's form beneath the sheets, memories of the night before flashed randomly in her head, and with her headache, all she could do to decipher them was...

"Booth?"

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**When I was writing this, I had actually bgun to get into some smut, but then I realized I had rated the thing T. Maybe I'll post this chap. with the dirty parts on a later date? I don't know. Anyway, I think I only have one more chapter to go, and I'll have it done soon hopefully, so any comments, questions, ideas, opinions, etc. would be greatly appreciated. **

**Please?**

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	3. Chapter 3

Hey everyone, I have here the final installment of The Roof. I am not totally sure I liked how it ended up, but out of all the different scenarios I dreamed up for it, this just fit best. I would appreciate very much any sort of constructive criticism, thoughts, likes/dislikes, etc., and I will do my best to get back to everyone who writes a review. Hope you like it! Or at least find it mildly decent!

DISCLAIMER: Me no own Bones. If me own Bones, I be very happy and stop writing this maudlin crap. (Or perhaps not crap. I is having no true empirical way to analyze own writing, so I does not really know.) But, as it is, all I own is this storyline. Not the characters, not the setting, not the nothing else. Just so you is knowing.

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**_The next morning, Temperance awoke with an uncharacteristically contented feeling in her chest. Though a small pounding was blooming in her skull, the obvious first inklings of a nasty hangover, she still had a nice warm haze about herself. A few warm rays of sunshine breezed through the sheer curtains on her window; she must have forgotten to pull the thicker panels across last night. __On that thought, what did happen last night? Not bothering to open her eyes, Brennan assessed herself. Feeling the softness of her Egyptian Cotton sheets across her back, she realized she must have slept nude. _I don't do that unless I get home late enough that I don't bother with pajamas or...**

**_Pairing that thought with the familiar slight throb between her thighs, Bones's eyes flew open and she bolted upright in bed._**

**_Seeing Booth's form beneath the sheets, memories of the night before flashed randomly in her head, and with her headache, all she could do to decipher them was..._**

**_"Booth?"_**

She grabbed the sheet and held it over her breasts, urgently repeating herself. He grumbled, burying his head in the pillow.

Shove.

"Augh!" he yelped, just nearly avoiding falling off of her bed. "What was that for, Bones?"

His eyes widened.

"Bones? What..." he trailed off, taking in his surroundings. He was, quite obviously, not in his own room. A baseball bat was leaning haphazardly in the corner by the door; he recognized it as Brennan's. So he was in her bed. And then he caught the sight of her before him, sitting upright and looking shell-shocked, one hand holding a sheet over...oh my god, she was naked.

_He _was naked.

For a few moments the two simply stared at one another, trying desperately to figure out if what they thought had happened really had happened.

_We went to that gala, I remember..._

_She brought me to that Jeffersonianan thing..._

_We stole that bottle of wine even after having a few..._

_There was all that alcohol..._

_He took me up to the roof..._

_She made me come with her to the roof..._

_Taxi ride home..._

_Got kicked out of the cab at her place..._

_Foreigner..._

_Spilled sugar..._

"Oh my god."

"So we..."

"I...I think we did."

"Oh my god."

"I already said that."

He glared at her, momentarily forgetting about the predicament. She could just argue about anything. If only he didn't find it as such a damned turn-on sometimes. "Um. So..."

They both continued to watch the other's each and every move. He was pressing his middle three fingers on his right hand to his temple, rubbing back and forth as to soothe a headache. Or hangover, as the case probably was. She was gripping the sheet tight, the other hand squeezing it to her. Neither wanted to make a first move; it was just too awkward.

And then the thought came to her like a bolt of lightning. _OH MY GOD. _"Booth. Did we use a condom?" she asked, urgently looking around for any sign of protection. While she doubted a man like Booth would carry an STD or even forget to use something, she did know that they both had been incredibly intoxicated.

Now she bolted out of bed, completely neglecting to hold onto the sheet. Booth felt himself struggling to keep his eyes averted. _Now is _definitely_ not the time. _Now he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to remember. "I-I'm not sure. I always carry one in my wallet for--emergencies, I guess, but I didn't bring it with me. Do...do you keep any here that we might have used?"

She had slipped into a long shirt from one of her dresser drawers, and was searching the garbage can for any evidence of safe sex. "Booth, carrying condoms around in wallets is an incredibly unsafe way to store them. Over time, the friction from the leather can cause tiny holes to develop in the latex, causing it to tear easily. How could you possibly be so irresponsible?" No luck in the trash can, she moved onto looking under the bed.

At her last words, he himself jumped out of the bed. Boxers had gotten onto the wall sconce lamp above him somehow, he quickly retrieved them and shoved his legs through, not caring that they were backward."_I'm_ irresponsible now? For trying to be considerate? Oh my god, Bones, whose idea was it to go up to the goddamned roof anyway?"

"IT WAS YOURS!"

"Uh-uh. No way. At the very least, this is both of our fault. If you weren't such a hardass, I wouldn't have had to go to your stupid ball anyway! It's not the donors' faults that you're so...so..." He stopped to grab his slacks, roughly pulling them on.

"So what, Booth? So what?"

"FORGET IT!"

And then she found it, buried deep in the comforter that she recalled pushing to the floor after the fact; they had both been so sweaty. Pinching an edge gingerly, she tossed into the garbage pail. They both let out a short, hard, sigh of relief.

"Look," Brennan said, "Maybe it would just be a good idea if you leave. If you want to call another taxi, use my phone, but- but I just can't deal with this right now."

Booth finished buttoning up his shirt and stuffed his feet into his shoes. He didn't bother searching for his sparkly black-and silver polka dotted socks, the closest he had ever come to owning any normal ones. "It's fine. I'll walk. Your building isn't that far from the Jeffersonian anyways."

She watched him go to the door, hesitating with his hand on the doorknob. "I'm sorry."

And with that Booth disappeared, leaving Brennan all alone in her own home. She made the bed, took a long shower, and finally changed into day clothes. She probably would have gone to the Jeffersonian herself earlier to pick up her own car, but she simply didn't want to run into Booth. She didn't want to call Angela for a ride, because even though she was sure her friend would have dropped whatever she was doing to help her friend, Brennan wasn't sure she wanted to talk about what had happened. Not yet.

Over the last 24 hours, she had danced with, gotten drunk with, slept with, and lost her partner. Perhaps not lost, exactly, but the relationship between them had been radically altered, and there was absolutely no guarantee that it would ever be the same again.

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A bit on the short side, I know. And yeah, I'm evil. A horrible angstmonster, you might even say. Well, all I can say is that this may very well be in great need of a sequel. Any thoughts?


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